Love in an Elevator
by SlushieMeCarrie
Summary: It's summer, and Quinn and Artie are dating. All of New Directions takes a trip to Myrtle Beach as their last hurrah. Quartie fun in the sun and sexy elevator times ensue. ONES-SHOT. Sexy Quartie for Quartie Week on Tumblr.


"Artie Abrams!" Quinn growled across to her boyfriend whom had settled himself into the sand only a few feet away from her. It was summer, and before heading to Yale and parting their ways, all of New Directions decided to take a weekend trip to Myrtle Beach— one last hurrah before fall. Quinn and Artie had started to casually date after her graduation; currently they were past the summer fling stage and had gradually fallen in love. Uncertainty over what their relationship would be once she headed to Yale was still there, but whether together or not, they were for sure not going to lose touch. At the moment though, Quinn felt inclined to threaten him, as he sat their feigning innocence by building a castle in the sand, Quinn's bikini top used as the flag. She grumbled again, still laying stomach down on the shore, as she had been for the past half hour or so. Removing her top in order to prevent tan-lines (it's not like anyone could see anything with her current position), had evidently been a bad idea.

"What's wrong, babe?" he boyishly replied, biting back the large grin that dared to tug at his lips while continuing building the castle's moat.

"You know _exactly_ what's wrong, now— give it back," she ordered, sentence falling flat, and angry tone somewhat dissolving as she discreetly adored him from her spot, hazel eyes peeping from above her arm.

"Give what back, boo?" Oh, Quinn was _so_ going to kill him later when they headed back to their room. How he could just sit there like a child and play without a worry while she was concerned with her lack of swimsuit top was annoying. And pretty funny. Of course, she wasn't going to tell _him_ that.

"My swimsuit top. So help me, if I have to come over there and get it, I'll be flashing the whole beach. Do you really want that to happen?"

"No. But I know you won't," he coolly responded, blue eyes still focused on the task at hand.

Quinn was glaring now; partially because she was frustrated, but also it wasn't fair. He could just sit there and get by with anything because of those puppy dog eyes and charm. Sighing because she knew he was right, the blonde stretched to reach for the nearest towel and was quick to wrap around her body, ensuring it was tight around exposed bosom and covering all. She crawled over to her boyfriend, hazel eyes narrowed, and as Artie lifted his gaze to catch them, he noticed the twinkle there, completely giving away tough exterior.

"Hi," he murmured almost shyly.

"Your castle is now flag-less," she quipped, snatching the metallic black covering. Artie pouted.

"I needed that."

"Not more than _I_ do," she assured, placing the neck strap along the nape and still holding the towel around her as she opened the back up to him. "Tie me, please," she ordered politely.

"It's just going to come off when we get to the room anyway," Artie teased, fingers lifting to twist the ties in place and then trailing his touch to the small of her back. Quinn bit her lip, trying to ignore the shiver that traveled her spine.

"Not tonight," she muttered and turned to face him, hazel eyes rolling a bit playfully as his lip further jut in a pout. "Stop. That's not fair." Artie knew she was quick to give in when he did that, so her gaze averted to the castle he'd been making. "This is actually pretty awesome, you did a good job," Q complimented, her stare this time accompanied by a grin from him. The apples of his cheeks were nearing red; they'd been out all day, and honestly needed a break. "We should go inside before we burn to a crisp," Quinn suggested, letting the pad of her thumb brush over his cheek delicately. Affection always seemed to outweigh the anger, although she definitely wanted Artie to know he wasn't entirely off the hook. Quickly pulling away, Quinn helped him into his wheelchair and gathered their things, before leading them into the hotel lobby. Feminine fingers pressed the "10" button of the elevator (why the handicap suite wasn't on the bottom floor, she'd never understand); as the door flew open, Artie wheeled inside, she following behind.

Artie knew Quinn wasn't that mad. She was still flashing him little smiles and not entirely ignoring him. Honestly, he just really liked to push her buttons, because he seemed to be the only one she was never truly mad at. He'd always had a crush on Quinn, it growing deeper as the years passed, especially their most recent one. How they'd ended up together was as surprising as her mutual like for him— sharing a kiss at the end of a video game marathon amazingly brought them together. He didn't want it to end, but summer was quickly fading. He knew Quinn didn't want it to either, they were honestly in love. They'd said it— they'd proven it, even been intimate a few times, which… was special for both, considering their first times weren't, and they didn't easily give themselves away either. But Artie knew the time would come they'd have to part; he couldn't tie her down, even if she let him. A heavy sigh escaped, just as the elevator halted on the fourth floor. Guess they wouldn't be alone on the elevator after all.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked, hands draped over his warm shoulders as she caught his sigh.

"It's nothing," Artie muttered, not wanting to bring the subject up right now.

"Tell me."

Knowing she wouldn't give up until he did, Artie spilled. "It's us. I don't want it to end. But I can't hold you back either, Quinn."

Silence.

Crickets.

"I don't want it to either, Artie. We'll figure out something, I promise." She gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze of assurance. Somehow, that was all he needed to hear. At least she wasn't giving up on them either.

"Okay. Good."

Then they waited.

And _waited_.

No one came on the elevator. The doors didn't open and it had stopped completely.

Quinn panicked a little. "I think we're stuck, Artie."

"Push the emergency button."

"It's out of order."

"Well that's real helpful," he sputtered, shaking his head.

"What do we do?"

"Just wait, Q. Someone will come. They'll know the elevators aren't servicing." Not that they'd probably have reception anyway, but it was too bad they'd left their phones in the room.

Quinn began pacing a little, feeling a bit claustrophobic.

"Are you still mad at me?" Artie questioned as he glanced over at the blonde, a playful smile curling at his lips. At least maybe he could get her mind off the current situation so that she wouldn't panic.

"Yes," she groaned, crossing arms in front of her chest.

"Are not." He smirked.

"I am."

"Yeah right."

Quinn rolled her eyes again at their bantering; an attempt to cover up that she ultimately wasn't that angry anymore.

"I can get your mind off this. How _teeming_ (he enunciated the word sarcastically, knowing she wasn't) with anger you are for me right now, and about being stuck in here.

"How?" she asked skeptically.

It was then that Artie began humming and singing the chorus to _Aerosmith's_ "Love in an Elevator."

"No. I'm not in the mood." However, she did crack a chuckle at his singing.

"Doubt that."

"I'm not."

"I can change that. C'mere," he cooed sweetly this time, patting his lap. Quinn's legs were already tired from the beach, so even standing in the elevator for a mere ten minutes plus was exhausting them.

"I can sit on the floor."

"Ew, Quinn. That's gross. We both know you won't." He was right as always; her nose crinkled as she glanced down at the musty floor before tentatively sliding on his lap.

"Sometimes you're really frustrating," she mumbled, lifting hazel to catch ocean blue.

"I know, but you love me," he quirked, gentle hands slipping along Quinn's waist and holding her closer.

"I do." Her own arms draped over Artie's neck as she sighed.T his was her home— her favorite place to be at the end of a day, in Artie's lap. No matter her mood.

"Don't be mad at me," he murmured, nose nudging Quinn's before lips brushed hers incredibly soft.

"Shhh. Being sweet won't change my mind," she retorted, but didn't hesitate to press her lips back to his.

"You're a terrible liar," he husked, lips trailing across Quinn's jaw and along sun-kissed neck. Gently, he nipped at her most sensitive spots. Tongue darted out to lick along the bites, before he blew a stream of air over the marks. Quinn gasped.

"I know what you're doing and it won't work," she croaked, fingers reflexively twisting within his brown locks as Artie suckled at her pulse point. A soft moan escaped, one that Quinn didn't even try to hold back as she melted beneath his kisses— beneath the kneading of hands along her sides.

"'Kay," he murmured disbelievingly into her skin, fingers ghosting along her spine and inching to untie the top of her bikini. Of course, if Quinn _really_ wanted him to stop, she'd say so— and he would. But he knew her too damn well, and sometimes this was the only way to make his girl crack. Not that he'd have it any other way.

"Artie," Quinn whispered, her lips hovering his ear where she'd been nibbling, which she knew to be one of his weaknesses. "What if someone sees us?"

"Babe," Artie pulled back with a light laugh. "We're stuck in an elevator. No one's coming in here, and we'll keep everything on. If we start moving again, it'll be a quick fix," he promised.

"Okay," she nodded, now smiling softly as she pulled Artie in for a languid kiss. He grinned within the press, hands dancing along her toned abdomen and then sliding along opened swim top, gently palming her breasts. Another moan slipped into the kiss, and Artie began to suckle ardently at her lower lip as he massaged, thumbs grazing her nipples in tease. Now she was whimpering, a noise that made it hard for Artie to control _anything_.

"You're so perfect," he groaned, parting their lips for air and reconnecting them to her collarbone as mouth continued traveled south. Quinn was straddling him by her knees now, and when Artie's mouth ventured to a breast, tongue teasing a hardened peak, she caved.

"I'm really not mad at you," Q confessed through a pant, his mouth working from breast to breast— suckling and nipping at the pert mounds.

"I know," he muttered into her skin, tongue flicking teasingly once more, causing Quinn to rock into him. She was grinding now, and Artie had already been so damn hard, he wouldn't be surprised if the dry humping alone got him off.

"You're ridiculous," she whined.

"You're sexy," he sputtered back, trailing kisses back to her ear.

"You're an animal."

"You like it."

"I love it. I love _you_," Quinn managed through baited breath, her lips soon stolen by Artie's again as he untied one side of her string-bikini bottoms. Digits explored her soaking wet folds, pulling a groan from Artie. He kissed her more harshly, breathing an "I love you too," into her lips.

Hips bucked slightly at Artie's touch; Quinn's hands clasped to his shoulders, fingers gently curling there to stable her as wet heat encompassed Artie's fingers. Skillfully, he began a slow rhythm, two digits filling her center - his own moans seeping into the kiss as he was already feeling Quinn's muscles pulsating around him. "You feel so good, Quinn," Artie whimpered, his pumps gradually speeding and thumb seeking her clit to softly caress. The blonde's nails dug slightly into sunburned shoulders in reflex, but he didn't care, she felt too good to focus on anything else.

She was almost writhing— body aquiver, and pressing so needfully into his touch that the back of Artie's palm was now massaging his own arousal. "Oh damn," he grunted, fingers plunging deeper into his love's core and _curling_— pace picked up more steadily as Artie managed to work both her and himself through his own swim trunks.

As her hips rolled, Q could feel her man's hardness and rocked faster, striving for him to receive just as much pleasure as herself. "Ugh, _Quinn…_" Artie choked - Quinn gasping as her inner walls fluttered about his fingers, signaling a soon release.

"Artie, I'm c-close baby…" she fought through shallow breaths, words provoking Artie to circle her clit with tight strokes of his thumb. His own swim trunks were incredibly tight, and with each thrust of Quinn's hips, he felt his own pressure building. One particular roll had Artie's hips cantering back needfully as best they could. "Oh god Quinn, me too… come for me baby," he ordered through strangled breath, fingers alternating between thrusts and caressing her folds. "Come on, babe."

That was the last Quinn needed to send her over; Artie's own arousal took a final twitch, before the wetness that flooded his fingers drew his own release— both crying out their lover's name softly as they in tandem, rode out their highs. Slowly, Artie slipped drenched digits free and licked them clean with a moan, before kissing his woman soft and lovingly— strong hands kneaded her shaky thighs, allowing her to calm.

"You still mad?" he asked between peppered kisses to her pout.

"No way," Quinn giggled breathlessly, catching each peck with her own lips.

"Still scared?"

"No."

"Still love me?"

"More than ever." Her own lips showered his flushed face in kisses, as Artie reluctantly tied back all pieces of her swimwear. It wasn't but a few minutes later that the elevator moved again, Quinn and Artie flushed with missed hair, but at least fully covered.

Wheeling from the elevator giddily, Quinn cling to her man, arms tightly wrapped around his neck as they headed to the room.

"Sounds like somebody had fun in the sand," a familiar voice rang down the hall. No doubt it was Puck as he ran into his room with stowed beers he must have managed by fake ID. Quinn and Artie just glanced at one another, sharing a mirrored grin as they entered their suite— the "Privacy Please" sign freshly dangling from the door as it closed behind them.


End file.
